


feel my body swoon

by incode



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blindfolds, Bondage, Facials, Glove Kink, Gloves, Light Bondage, M/M, Sensation Play, Snowballing, Teasing, there's a looooohohot of kissing in this.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 23:09:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8773093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incode/pseuds/incode
Summary: Yuuri makes a request, and Victor is happy to oblige.   (He’s running hands over Yuuri’s body, and it’s intoxicating - Yuuri is reluctant to let him go, pushing into him even as Victor tries to gently break them apart.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> [at last, I'm found](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fhU9O4T_mJU)
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> Back at it again with another [prompt from the kink meme.](http://yoikinkmeme.tumblr.com/post/153453886409/yuuriviktor-glove-kink) It's fill week! Is that my fault!  
> That's a lie because we all know I'll continue writing these - I have soooo many lovely prompts in my tumblr drafts and messages waiting to be written, and in light of that, it's time for the induction of a series to get all these collected in a handy spot that separates them, sort of. You should [prompt me something](http://shakenhoney.tumblr.com/ask) for the good of us all!!
> 
> Anyway, glove kink with a lot of affection. Have fun kids

Blinded by the silk looped twice round his eyes, all the rest of Yuuri’s senses seem heightened. Whisper of fabric, Victor’s clothes coming off; scent of freshly bought, finely brushed suede. The way the skin of Victor’s thighs feels against Yuuri's as he settles on the bed, straddling him. Yuuri makes a small, desperate noise as Victor leans down to kiss him, feeling the breath leave his lungs. Victor draws it out into an endless, teasing kiss, and his hands come to rest gently at Yuuri’s waist.

Yuuri can barely distinguish the moment Victor stops kissing his mouth and trails his lips over Yuuri’s cheek to his ear instead, muttering nonsense in Russian as he reaches it. And then he sits back, and Yuuri mewls, but Victor soothes him - his hands glide up Yuuri’s sides over his ribcage, to his chest, the suede of his gloves pushed against its grain to prickle at Yuuri’s hot, sensitive skin. “Shh,” he says softly. Yuuri does his best to be quiet, though he thinks Victor’s shushing is more reflexive than anything else. He gasps as Victor runs his gloved hands lightly over his upper arms. He is reminded of his bonds, wrists twitching where they’re tied together in an unconscious effort to get at Victor like he normally would, touch him as he’s meant to.

But Yuuri had asked for this, had climbed into Victor’s lap and nuzzled up against his neck and murmured what he’d wanted. It’s been a few days - Victor likes to keep him on edge during competition, tends to reward him after good performances by indulging in something new - and he’d bought a new pair of gloves, though Yuuri would have been fine with the old ones. Yuuri supposes there’s a reason for it, and that the reason has something to do with the fact that Victor is now laid out beside him, body pressed close to Yuuri’s side, and inching one hand lower and lower down his abdomen, tracing little circular patterns with his fingertips until he gets low enough that -

Yuuri takes a deep, shivering breath, feeling his waist bow inward toward the bed as if he’s been dealt a blow there. But there’s nowhere he can think to go, and Victor only keeps drawing his fingers lightly across the head of his cock. He trails them down the underside to brush against the soft skin of his balls and Yuuri feels them draw up tight to his body in anticipation, but he can’t get any real friction this way. Victor refuses to apply any real pressure, even as he bucks his hips up and tries to grind, and Yuuri lets out a frustrated whine. He wishes Victor would offer the heel of his hand, at least.

“Shh,” Victor says again, and it’s so  _ close _ to Yuuri that he feels the vibrations of his voice on the shell of his ear, “relax, star.” 

Victor pulls his hand away and for a moment Yuuri panics, wants the contact back immediately. He shifts his hips, feels his lips parted in protest for only a split second before Victor covers them with his own once more. He sinks into the kiss, eager to let Victor overwhelm him. He’s vaguely aware that he’s moaning as Victor kisses him, and Victor swings a leg back over to straddle him and moans back, pressing their bodies together. Yuuri lets out a desperate whine as Victor finally lets him detach from the kiss and ruts against him. Panting, he lets Victor rub off on his stomach without any fight, relishing the friction afforded by his toned thigh.

“Ah, Yuuri, you’re so pretty… I… mm…” Victor grunts, and Yuuri blushes furiously; he can’t help it when Victor compliments him, and he can’t hold back the arch his body gives at the praise. Victor hisses as Yuuri presses up into him, shoving him back down to the bed once he gains control of himself.

“You should see how good you look right now, star,” Victor tells him,  low, like a threat. “The way you can’t see me, so your body takes control. I love when you let yourself move like this, when you let yourself  _ reach.” _

“I want you,” Yuuri says, and it’s an almost delicate admission, one which months ago would have been meek, but now he knows Victor can hear the stubbornness in his voice, the quiet demand. Yuuri wants Victor something fierce, and he growls, making another valiant attempt to push his groin up against Victor’s body again. This time, Victor lets him. He strokes Yuuri’s face and pushes his gloved thumb into the pad of Yuuri’s bottom lip - Yuuri darts his tongue out to taste, chemical bite of treated hide. Victor groans, shifts. He grips Yuuri’s jaw and kisses him again, this time forcefully, dominantly. Yuuri lets him have it, opting to pick his battles.

Victor drops his face and Yuuri pants, then mewls with loss as Victor once again moves away. He’s sitting between Yuuri’s legs, pushing his thighs apart - Yuuri shudders as his fingers dip into the soft flesh of them. Feeling exposed, he waits patiently, trying not to squirm as Victor no doubt takes his fill visually, feeling the cool air of the room caress his overheated skin.

Finally, Victor’s hands swirl up to the hinges that join his legs and pelvis, middle fingers teasing the hollows of his hipbones as his thumbs slide up to touch the base of his cock, and then he wraps one hand around Yuuri’s shaft in one swift motion - Yuuri gasps desperately, trying to recover the breath that’s been stolen from him. Victor makes an amused noise as Yuuri bucks for the contact, but he doesn’t grip him tightly enough; his fist is closed only loosely around Yuuri and he leans down to kiss the corner of his mouth as he whimpers.

“You make the sweetest noises for me,” Victor sighs, nuzzling into Yuuri’s neck. Yuuri cries out - at the some moment Victor finally,  _ finally _ tightens his hand, he sinks sharp teeth into the thin skin on Yuuri’s neck, and Yuuri’s voice breaks into a soft moan as it becomes clear he isn’t going to relent - he sucks a sloppy bruise into Yuuri’s neck and breathes hard upon the wet skin. One leg draped over Yuuri’s thighs, pressed up against him with every inch of his body that he can - Yuuri realizes their proximity and moans all over again. He wishes he could get his hands all over Victor, but if he can’t then he’ll settle for this, for feeling every bit of body heat he gives off, the slick of their building sweat where their skin is touching, the rhythmic motion of his groin against Yuuri’s flank. Giving, giving, taking. If Victor wants a show, Yuuri will give him one.

The thought of being put on display, perhaps putting  _ himself _ on display, is what does it for him, in the end - he comes hard, messy all over Victor’s hand, the suede no doubt irreparably damaged as he thrusts his hips and rides it out. He turns his head toward Victor in the comedown and Victor kisses him, slow, sweet, nothing like the way he’d kissed him in the throes.

“Yuuri,” Victor says between kisses, gradually pulling back. He’s running hands over Yuuri’s body, and it’s intoxicating - Yuuri is reluctant to let him go, pushing into him even as Victor tries to gently break them apart. Victor giggles into him as Yuuri’s kisses only become more and more insistent. “Yuuri,” he says again, gasping as Yuuri nips his bottom lip in admonishment, “Yuuri, can I…I need to…”

_ “Yes,” _ Yuuri says, not because he knows what Victor means but because he could suggest anything right now, absolutely anything, and Yuuri would grant him his request. Yuuri wants to be swallowed up in the way he feels right now, fall asleep with Victor right here next to him in their shared warmth and affection. But… oh. Victor is straddling Yuuri’s chest, and the way he’s panting from above him casts no illusions.

“Can I,” he says again, breathless, stilted, and Yuuri pants  _ Yes, yes  _ and lets his jaw drop open as Victor grunts signaling his imminent release. Yuuri notes every sound involved in Victor’s orgasm, skin rapid against skin (for he must have taken his gloves off, it’s just not feasible anymore), the way Yuuri can actually  _ hear _ that he’s biting at his lips, the whines that still slip past his effort.

Yuuri licks at his lip, tasting Victor’s salt and musk. Victor reaches up to untie him before he collapses onto him, but he leaves the blindfold alone, so Yuuri is surprised by Victor’s tongue running along his chin. Once he realizes what is happening, he half-tries to shove Victor away. “You’re disgusting,” he protests. Victor responds by chuckling against him - hot exhale - and then kissing him, invading his mouth with his tongue, tasting himself from Yuuri’s mouth. Yuuri makes an unhappy noise for show but lets Victor lead his tongue just the same, playful as he regains his faculties and brings his hands around Victor’s waist to rest at the small of his back, hands sliding across his smooth skin, finally touching him as he should. Always should. Yuuri never wants to not be touching Victor again.

Victor hums and pulls away, gently pushing the blindfold up and stroking Yuuri’s hair away from his forehead. “Not sure how we’re going to arrange that, little star. You compete in men’s singles, for one thing.”

Yuuri blushes only momentarily at having said his thoughts aloud before he smiles up at Victor. “Well, you’ll just have to promise to keep your eyes on me at all times,” he flirts.

There’s a long pause. Victor’s face is very serious as he stares at Yuuri, searching his eyes. He looks like he is about to cry, and Yuuri feels it, too, the pressure, the sort of spark that’s dulled to embers between them, smoldering but burning still, the crash of emotions that always wreck them after something that intense. “Shouldn’t be a problem,” Victor answers finally, softly,  _ reverently, _ and Yuuri kisses him then, rough and demanding, laying claim on his heart and his lungs, and Victor seems not to mind.

**Author's Note:**

> [the blaugue](http://shakenhoney.tumblr.com/)  
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> Kudos + comments appreciated! Thanks guys!


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